Basic reality testing
          
          Making the transition from beliefs to facts is simple: one just tests beliefs
          against
          reality, and those that pass the test are facts. Even though this new standard
          of evidence appears to build a bridge across a huge chasm, in reality the
          difference between beliefs and facts is not that great.
          
          
          You might object, thinking the difference between beliefs and facts is no less
          than the difference between myth and reality. This is true, but like most
          truths, there's more to the story.
          
          
          Here's an example. Bob, a 17-year-old newly licensed driver, believes he can
          stop the family car on a dime. Several months into his career as a driver, he
          discovers his belief is false — he skids, hits something, dents the car
          and receives a lecture about stopping distances from a policeman.
          
          
          The policeman tells Bob that, at 40 miles per hour, after Bob reacts and steps
          on the brake, the car requires 80 feet to come to a stop on dry pavement. Bob
          manages to notice that his car's stopping distance in feet was twice the
          numerical value of its speed in miles per hour. Now Bob has moved from belief
          to fact.
          
            What he doesn't know is that his new fact is nearly always wrong.
          
          
          
          The very next week he invites all his friends to go for a ride, and, armed with
          his impressive new fact, he tell them he can safely go 80 miles per hour, so
          long as he allows 160 feet to stop his car. Boys being boys, they decide to
          test this assumption — and crash through a fence, destroying the family
          car and releasing 500 angry chickens.
          
          
          The reason? Bob has falsely assumed that knowing a fact is a huge improvement
          over knowing nothing at all.
          
            But knowing a simple fact is only marginally better than knowing nothing.
          
          Bob has mistakenly assumed, because a stopping distance of 80 feet is required
          at 40 miles per hour (not counting reaction time), therefore 160 feet must be
          required at 80 miles per hour.
          
          
          Bob has just fallen into the most common misconception in contemporary American
          life — that knowing facts makes you smart. American education is built on
          this foundation, and this is why American students know next to nothing about
          reality.
          
          
          In truth,
          
            all facts spring from ideas,
          
          and if you do not understand the idea behind the fact, you have not learned
          
            anything.
          
          Bob absorbed the fact that his car could stop in 80 feet if he was traveling
          40 miles per hour (neglecting reaction time), but the accident was caused by
          what he didn't learn — the idea behind the fact. Even though the fact was
          true, Bob and his friends could have been killed by it!
          
          
          The underlying idea, by the way, is that
          
            moving objects carry an energy that is proportional to their mass multiplied by
            the square of their speed
          
          (this is the physics definition of kinetic energy). Because of this underlying
          idea, Bob's car needed 320, not 160, feet to stop at 80 miles per hour, not
          counting his time to react.
          
          
          
          Instead of learning this idea, Bob learned a fact that can only be applied to a
          car, on dry level pavement, going 40 miles per hour, after he has reacted and
          pressed the brake pedal. The usefulness of this fact is arbitrarily close to
          zero.
          
            By contrast, the kinetic energy idea can be applied to any object in the
            universe, going nearly any speed.
          
          
          
          Schools that teach only facts train people for a lifetime of intellectual
          poverty and dependence. The true riches in education are not facts, but ideas.
          
            Facts are like leaves on a tree — the tree is the idea that produces the
            foliage of facts.
          
          If a leaf falls from a tree, it quickly dies. In the same
          way, if a fact is separated from the idea that created it, it loses all
          meaning. Just ask Bob.
          
          
          It is not an exaggeration to say
          
            we live in a country of fact consumers
          
          — people who know how to acquire facts, but cannot assimilate the ideas
          that created the facts. As a result, students know there are three branches of
          government (a fact), but cannot explain
          
            why
          
          (an idea).
          
          
          Another example — people know it is hot in the summer, but most don't know
          
            why.
          
          Astonished? In a recent survey, some Harvard graduates were asked this very
          question — why is it hotter in summer than in winter? Most believed it was
          because the Earth is closer to the sun in the summertime (wrong: it's the
          Earth's axial tilt that creates the seasons).
          
          
          A reliance on facts is incredibly inefficient compared to actually becoming
          educated, and it is hard to understand why it is thought more efficient to fill
          students' brains with facts instead of ideas. Well, I can think of one reason
          fact-based education is so popular — people who rely on facts cannot
          generally assemble facts into ideas, or discover those facts that contradict
          each other, so in general they are more docile, easier to rule.
          
          
          What does it mean to assemble facts into ideas? Well, let's say
          your entire world is a tropical beach. First, you build your grass shack right
          by the water. But by that afternoon (grass shacks don't take that long to
          build), the water has crept up the shore and washed your house away.
          
          
          So the next day, you watch the entire day to see how far up the beach the water
          will go. You put a stick at the high water mark, and then you build your house
          again. But seven days later, the water climbs up the beach much higher than
          before, and washes your house away again.
          
          
          Over years of time, you notice the changes in the tides (facts), and you
          gradually notice the tide is highest when the moon is full or new (correlation:
          a kind of fact). Then one night you have a dream — the moon is actually a
          big planet like Earth, floating in the sky, and as it passes overhead, it pulls
          on the water, making the water crawl up the beach. Then you notice when the sun
          and the moon are aligned, the water is pulled more than other times — the
          sun and moon are like partners, sometimes pulling in concert, sometimes puling
          in different directions. You have assembled your observations (facts) into an
          idea.
          
          
          
            
              |   | 
          
          At this point you have a choice. You can simply share your knowledge with the
          tribe, tell the young people to watch the moon: when it is full or new, it's a
          good time to dig for clams (a fact). And you can explain why you think this is
          true (the idea), so the young people can pass the learning on. On the other
          hand, you could appoint yourself High Priest and dispense facts to the
          uneducated — I will tell you when to dig for clams. I can do this
          because God tells me his secrets. The difference between these two
          choices is no less than the difference between one who actually loves his
          tribe, and one who is a natural parasite.
          
          
          But remember about this story that no one can appoint himself High Priest
          unless the people in the tribe are too intellectually lazy to observe the world
          for themselves, to dare a peek beneath the outer layer of reality.
          
            Every story about a tyrant, about a cult leader, is actually two tragic stories
            — one about the leader, one about the ignorant followers.
          
          
          
          Please remember the beach story — if you are only being taught facts, you
          may be in the presence of a preacher instead of a teacher. But don't jump to
          conclusions — you need to ask to be taught the underlying ideas, to be
          shown the tree hidden behind the leaves. Want to find out which is true
          (preacher or teacher)? Simple — ask your teachers
          
            why.
          
          If they won't tell you, change schools.
          
          
          In summary,
          
            facts are only the leaves in an idea tree. Without the tree, the leaves die.
          
          Facts can never be more than tiny parts of a whole. A person who only has
          access to facts is dangerous to himself and others, and is scarcely better off
          than someone stuck in belief.
          
          
          Dependence on facts alone is just a different version of dependence on beliefs.
          The faces change — teachers instead of preachers — but the reality is
          the same: you have no personal power. Someone else interprets reality for you.
          You're still stuck. For this reason,
          
            the fact level can only be a steppingstone to the level of ideas.